


My Hero

by Duochanfan



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2018-01-09 16:24:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1148146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duochanfan/pseuds/Duochanfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock Holmes may not think he is a hero, but to one he is, and always will be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Hero

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t own BBC Sherlock; they are the creative works of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and of course the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> This came about while listening to My Hero by Foo Fighters.

** My Hero **

 

John smiled slightly as he watched Sherlock at work once again in the three bed terraced house that the two had been called to. It had been two months since Moriarty had strapped him into a vest of Semtex and the consulting criminal had not shown his face since then, to their relief. But Sherlock and John may have been thankful for that, though it was still only a matter of time before he surfaced once more.

“I thought it was you that had told Sherlock that it wasn’t a good idea to smile at a crime scene.” Came the questioning voice of Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade.

John turned and nodded to him as he told the older male, “I told him not to giggle or look to happy at crime scenes.”

“Shouldn’t the same go for you though?” he asked, his voice quiet as to make sure they didn’t disturb Sherlock, who was moving around the room.

“It does, but I’m not exactly happy, but more thankful,” he answered softly, the answer making the Inspector a little confused.

Lestrade looked to him, a frown forming on his face, “What do you mean by that?” he asked after a few moments of silence between them.

“When you first met me, I had been back from Afghanistan for around a month. I couldn’t afford to stay in London with just an army pension. I was feeling alone, lost. Limping around the city just letting the days go by,” he said softly as he remembered back to before he had met Sherlock, he had been close at the time to pulling the trigger of his gun, he had been depressed and saw no future for himself at all.

“It was a shock to see you with Sherlock at the scene, he had never brought someone with him before, and I had never actually seen him with anyone and talking to them, like he was doing with you, it was as though he was someone else.” He nodded as he remembered the man liming in with a cane. “Why were you limping, and why had you been sent back from Afghanistan?” he asked as he added, “you don’t have to say, but in the year I’ve known you, I only know that you are a doctor and that you had been in the army.”

John looked at him and could see the genuine curiosity and event he slight concern that was on the older mans face, it was that look that told the ex army doctor to answer the question, “I was an army doctor yes, a fully trained surgeon, but I was also a full combatant solider. We were heading back to our temprory base when we came under heavy fire. We had injuries all over, and when we thought we had the last one down, I got to work fixing them all up, treating those that I could. We didn’t know that there was also a Sniper out there as well, took out three of us, and almost took me as well. I was the only one out of us that were shot by the sniper to still be alive. And that was a close call, my heart stopped twice before I was stable. I got sent back to England, no longer a Captain in the Army and with an intermittent tremor in my dominate hand, I was no longer a surgeon. Both of the careers that I had worked hard for, gone with one bullet hitting me in the shoulder.”

Lestrade looked to him, a bit more respect alight in his eyes, “How did Sherlock help though?” He then asked, still wondering what the man could have done to help John after he had been shot and sent back.

John smiled to him, “He gave me something to live for. I still crave the adrenaline that comes from saving lives out in the battlefield, or even being out in the battlefield.” He could still tell that Lestrade was a little unsure of things, “My limp was all in my mind, within a day of meeting Sherlock it was gone. Nothing is normal or boring around him, keeps me going, keeps me on my toes as well. He plays the violin at all hours, but more recently its when I have bad days and it helps me sleep. Hell, he has helped me more than the psychiatrist that I was seeing.” John gave a rueful snort as he thought of Ella.

Lestrade looked to him, understanding a little about what drew the two men together in the weird friendship that had formed. From what he had heard, Sherlock had somehow managed to turn the life of the man standing next to him, away from a dangerous and self destructive path, “I get it, mostly.” He said as eht two looked back to Sherlock.

“As far as I’m concerned he saved my life.” John murmured, “he doesn’t believe in Hero’s, but to me, he is mine.” He added as Sherlock straighted up and walked over to the two of them.

“Lestrade, find the ex-wife, if she is missing part of her nail on the little finger, then its her. It broke, but only slightly, enough to leave something behind, and enough to make it a little uneven, but not enough that she would cut her nails, also to make it more easier to identify, she is wearing aqua nail polish,” Sherlock told the detective, “She killed him because he is about to re-marry. The fiance is away visiting family in Scotland, Glasgow to be more precise.” He added as he looked to the detective and then to John.

“All right, and how did you come to that?” Lestrade asked, he would always ask, but it was only recently that Sherlock had truly began to tell them how he came to such conclusions.

Sherlock sighed in annoyance as he began to explain, “A letter on the side from a lawyer, asking for more money, alimony His lawyer is telling him not to give in, as the kids are grown up and she cheated on him first, causing the divorce, she had been getting child support, but no alimony because of her actions. He is now stopping payments to her, and she doesn’t like that. He is remarrying thanks to the mock up invites and wedding magazines all over the place.” He said as he paused for a moment, “the weapon of choice is the trophy on the fireplace, she did wipe it clean, but there is a small amount of blood at the bottom with a sliver of her finger nail in it, showing me the colour of them. The fiance is in Scotland, Glasgow, notes about venues up there, for the wedding and reception are on the side.”

Lestrade wrote quickly, once again making a reminder to himself to get a recorder so he wouldn’t get cramp in his hand, “Right, will check it all out. Thanks.” He said as he looked to Sherlock and John.

“Good, now, bye,” Sherlock said abruptly as he then walked out of the house, calling back, “Come on John.”

“Well,” John grinned a little as he looked to his friend and said. “There goes my Hero.” A small chuckle breaking free.

“And you beside him as always,” Lestrade nodded as John did the same and then left the scene to walk along side Sherlock once again.


End file.
